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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25456600">needy.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsleese/pseuds/itsleese'>itsleese</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Porn with Feelings, Swearing, Ushijima Has A Horse Cock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:46:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,703</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25456600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsleese/pseuds/itsleese</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Do people actually meet their soulmates in college? Apparently so.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>870</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>needy.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello, take some smut. TAKE IT.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wakatoshi has had girlfriends before. There was Mira-chan in middle school, Natsuki and Tomoko-san in high school, and the latest was Fuyumi, here in college.</p><p>None of those girls were like <em>you</em>, though. You, with your charm and wit, with your beautiful face and sharp mind, with your minidresses and gorgeous hair.</p><p>Oh, your <em>hair</em>.</p><p>The pair of you hadn’t been dating long—two weeks tops—but you were practically inseparable. He doesn’t really remember asking you out, but you took him home one night after a party, and you’d spent every night together since, even if he was out all hours training with the club.</p><p>2am finish? He’d text you, and you’d swiftly reply.</p><p>
  <em>Doors open X</em>
</p><p>And he’d be there.</p><p>You didn’t even mind if he had to take off at 4:30am for a run with team mates. He’d learnt to leave you a little note, and you’d text him when you'd woken up, wondering when you’d see him next.</p><p>He lays on your bed, completely nude, his ripped body bathed in the soft yellow glow of the lamp on your bedside table. Waiting. Wondering. You just needed to submit your essay online, then you’d be right there. You told him to take a bath and wait for you on the bed.</p><p>He did.</p><p>A few minutes later, you walk into the room, grin on your face, hair falling around your shoulders. Then, you’re bending at the waist, gathering it all, tying it up in the soft pink scrunchie that you had around your wrist.</p><p>“Been waiting long?” You ask softly, fixing your fringe and/or flyaways, sliding the straps of your dress down your arms, and pushing the entire thing down your body so it pools around your waist.</p><p>“No.” He lies. He’s been waiting for the better half of twenty minutes. A smile grows on your face.</p><p>“Really?” You ask, knowing better.</p><p>“Really.” He nods.   </p><p>“Okay, good.” Your bra is the next thing to go, and his cock twitches, eyes drinking in your luscious curves. Then you’re dipping a knee into the end of the bed, grinning up at him through your long lashes as you slowly begin your crawl up to him.</p><p>“Did you submit your assignment?” He asks, trying to distract himself from the throb between his thighs. You’re the most attractive person he’s ever met, the most enthralling. He wonders if you’re some kind of monster, a siren on land, a succubus, here to steal his soul and crunch his bones between your teeth.</p><p>Tendo would probably entertain the notion.</p><p>“Of course, Toshi.” You smile, on your knees between his thick thighs, eyes on his as your hands trail up his tanned, muscled skin. Your fingers map out the bulges and dips of his quads, trailing slowly—<em>so</em> slowly—and gently up to the apex of his thighs.</p><p>“Good.” He says, nodding shortly, keeping his cool despite the hammer of his heart.</p><p>Your smile grows. “Did Fuyumi ever suck you off?” You ask, palms on his pelvis, framing his engorged dick, tongue darting out to wet the pillow of your bottom lip.</p><p>He clears his throat. “I keep forgetting that you know her.”</p><p>That wasn’t the answer you were looking for. “She’s only in <em>one</em> of my classes. I wouldn’t classify that as knowing someone.” You pout, dipping down to blow a puff of air on the wet tip of his cock. He twitches. “Answer my question.”</p><p>“Once or twice.” He reaches for you, but you slink away, sitting back on your shins, ankles tucked beneath your bottom.</p><p>You cross your arms. “You dated for <em>six months</em> and she sucked you off <em>twice</em>?” You’re puzzled, nose scrunching slightly, eyes narrowing in the lamplight. “How many times did you have sex?”</p><p>Normally, Wakatoshi isn’t the type of guy to talk about stuff like this. The past is in the past. It’s one of the reasons why Fuyumi broke it off with him in the first place.</p><p>But it’s different with you.</p><p>He’s not sure why.</p><p>“Almost every weekend.” He shrugs nonchalantly.</p><p>There’s a pause. Your eyes widen a little, brows shooting up.</p><p>Then you laugh, head tossed back, stretching the expanse of your neck, parading your collarbone to him, your breasts as you unfurl your arms.</p><p>“Toshi, are you telling me you only fucked her on weekends?” There’s a grin on your face, and he’s confused about why. “I don’t think I’d <em>survive</em> knowing we were dating and you didn’t want me every night.” You say lowly, and he swallows as you lean back down to your previous position, mouth centimetres from him. “We’ve fucked every night since we met, Toshi. Do you think you could wait until the end of the week for me?”</p><p>“No.” His fingers itch to touch you, his hips long to buck up towards you. You meet his eyes expectantly, but he’s not sure what more you could want from him.</p><p>“Because...?” You bait, a predator. The succubus.</p><p><em>Because</em>?</p><p>Did you want to know why he wouldn’t be able to fall into the routine he had with Fuyumi? He can’t even imagine it; leaving you alone in your room, knowing you’re his, lonely, waiting. He doesn’t want to be in his own dorm room, alone in his bed. One night last week you were staying late in the library, cramming with some peers. He jacked off <em>twice</em> waiting for you.</p><p>And he still fucked your brains out when you finally made it back to his dorm.</p><p>“Toshi?” You tilt your head to the side, and he knows he’s taking too long to answer.</p><p>“I think I’m addicted to you.” He says seriously, and the flush that covers your body is unexpected. Adorable, but unexpected. You sit back up on your knees.</p><p>“Ushijima Wakatoshi,” you scold playfully. “Are you trying to sweet talk me?”</p><p>“I’m just being honest.” He says, sits up to rub his hand up one of your thighs, the other resting on the knee he props up.</p><p>“I know,” you sigh, a content sound. “I guess that’s why I like you so much.” You smile, leaning up to peck his lips gently. “Addicted, huh?” You ask softly against them, sly grin on your face.</p><p>“Mm,” he nods shortly as you pull back. “It’s your fault I’m always like this.” He gestures down to the semi between his legs, and you laugh, before launching your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck, kissing below his ear.</p><p>He shudders involuntarily.</p><p>“Lay back down.” You order lowly, just as he’s about to hug you back. To cement your point, you’re pushing him down with your fingertips; he allows you that, the <em>power</em>, despite being labelled Japan’s Canon, despite being <em>at least</em> twice your size.</p><p>He settles against the pillows, your scent all around him. Everything smells like you; your shampoo, fabric softener, perfume. It only makes him harder, makes him want you <em>more</em>.</p><p>When you’re ready, you kiss his balls gently, run your nose slowly to the tip of his cock. Your eyes are on him, and he swallows the lump in his throat, unable to look away.</p><p>His girlfriend is gone, and the succubus is back.</p><p>“I want you to cum in my mouth, kay?” You say sweetly, wetting your lips with your tongue.</p><p>He can only nod, large hands gripping the sheets either side of his hips. Though he wants to confirm, make sure you’re okay with it, he doesn’t. Fuyumi was <em>not</em>, neither was Tomoko-san; but you’re not like either of them, are you?</p><p>You lick him all over, cover him in split until he can feel it dripping down his sack, trailing to his perineum. “Ugh, Toshi, you’re so <em>big</em>.” You breathe against him, eyes flickering back up to meet his own. “I don’t know if it’s gonna fit.”</p><p>He knows this. He’s acutely aware—after spending so much time in locker rooms with other guys—that his dick is above average length soft, but <em>hard</em>?</p><p>“Don’t be discouraged,” he starts, and you chuckle, misunderstanding. “I’ve never… ejaculated… from getting it sucked.” He clarifies, not used to speaking about such things; he feels his ears heat up at the look on your face.</p><p>“Oh,” your eyes widen, hand—so <em>small</em> around his cock—pumps his shaft languidly. “A <em>challenge</em>. Is this why Fuyumi only blew you once or twice? You take too long to blow your load?”</p><p>He can only grunt in affirmation when your wet lips circle the tip of his knob, when your tongue snakes out to swipe more saliva onto it, to lap up his precum. One of your hands holds him still at the base, the other latches onto his thigh for support, grip there tightening as you slowly swallow a good length of him. You pull up gingerly, and go again, each time reaching lower, taking in more of him.</p><p>He closes his eyes, seeing stars.</p><p>Why did he say that? Why did he even mention the fact that he’s never found release during a blow job? You’ve barely started, and seeing you impale yourself on him has him ready to <em>bust</em>.</p><p>But it’s you, isn’t it? Not just the act itself, but the fact that it’s you completing it.  </p><p>He’s suddenly stuffed into a tight, wet heat, balls contracting. When he opens his eyes, he sees you’ve almost taken his whole length in your mouth—<em>then</em> he feels you <em>swallow</em> around his head.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>.” He hisses, a big hand going to your hair, holding your ponytail loosely by the base, wrapping your hair around his knuckles like a dog leash. He guides you back up—more hot, wet saliva covering his cock on your journey— and you take a breath, smile growing on your face, eyes watering.</p><p>“Am I doin’ good?” You ask, voice low, a little cracked.</p><p>“Yes.” He nods, free hand wiping a tear from your cheek. “Are you okay?”</p><p>You chuckle, turn your head to kiss his fingers. “I want this, Toshi. I want you to wreck me.”</p><p>He clenches his jaw as his chest tightens, watches as you open your mouth to take him again, pumping him a few times to remind him that you’re not done. Then you do it again: the deep throat. He’s expecting it this time, but it still feels just as good. Tight, wet, hot.</p><p>Then your pace steps up, and he’s trying to keep his eyes open, trying to keep his mouth shut, but you just feel so <em>fucking</em> good, that he’s tossing his head back, gasping, canting his hips with your rhythm, tugging on your hair—</p><p>His other hand grabs your jaw and he stuffs you fuller, opens his eyes to look at you—your own eyes wide and weeping—nose tickling the thatch of dark hair at the base of his cock; then he’s cursing, quickly sliding you back up his length, and seating himself in your throat again. A groan vibrates around his dick and your eyes roll, and he does it again—up and down—and your hands are on both of his thighs, nails digging into his skin as he uses you like a cocksleeve.</p><p>Like you <em>wanted</em>.</p><p>
  <em>I want you to wreck me.</em>
</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>.” He grunts one last time, remembering your words, feeling you swallow and moan around him. Then he’s coming, whole body tensing as he shoots his seed down your throat, your hair wrapped around his hand, your scent all around him, little juts of his hips riding him through the orgasm.</p><p>You slide off him and swallow—sitting up—before filling your lungs with oxygen and wiping at the tears rolling down your cheeks with the heels of your hands. He sits up, then, helps you with the task, taking your hands and replacing them with his, drying you with his big thumbs.</p><p>You laugh. “Thought you couldn’t cum from a blowjob?” You tease, voice raspy. He wipes at your lips next—dark from exertion—then your chin, shiny with spit, and surprisingly clean of him.</p><p>“I didn’t know you could dislocate your jaw for my pleasure.” He says dryly, wondering if you’re sore. You just laugh, wipe your hands on the sheets beside your knees, before reaching for his jaw with both hands.</p><p>“I didn’t think you’d actually fuck my skull.” You purr, grin on your face.</p><p>“You asked me to—”</p><p>“I know; I’m teasing.” You admonish, pushing him back to the pillows and laying next to him, hooking a leg over his thigh as you head rests on his chest.</p><p>“It was good.” He wraps his arm around you, plays absent-mindedly with your hair.</p><p>“<em>Just</em> good?” You look up at him, eyebrow quirked.</p><p>He blinks. Better than good. “Life changing.”</p><p>“Oh?” You grin, face flushing, brows raised as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.</p><p>He runs his finger down your nose, traces your bottom lip, pulling it free of your pearly whites. “You like it when I praise you.” He realises.</p><p>“Huh?” Your face falls into confusion.</p><p>“You like it when I praise you.” He repeats, watching your reaction. “When I tell you you’re life changing, or that I’m addicted to you, you react nicely.” He muses, watching your face flush again, deeper this time. “You’re so beautiful.” His chest tightens as you sigh, eyelids fluttering closed as his fingers continue to caress your skin, his free hand reaching over to run up the back of your calf, squeezing the flesh there.</p><p>Then he’s helping you slide on top of him, both hands on your hips, guiding you as you grind your clothed slit against his half-hard cock. Your lips are on his, tongue in his mouth, your fingernails dragging sensually along his scalp.</p><p>You pull away. “I guess I do like it.” You shudder as his big hands fondle the globes of your ass, the material of your panties riding up your crack as he rolls them this way and that. He’s always been as ass man, and yours is impressive.</p><p>“Take these off.” He demands shortly, hooking a finger under the elastic at your hips, flicking it against your skin.</p><p>You jump a little at the sting. “Okay.” You sit up to straddle him, pushing up onto your knees to slide the garment down.</p><p>“No, stand up,” he orders, eyes on yours. You freeze. “I want to see you.” He presses, hands running up the sides of your thighs, giving you a squeeze.</p><p>A grin paints itself on your face. “Do you?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Want a little show, Toshi?” The succubus smiles slowly, coming back out to play.</p><p>You stand up— feet either side of his thighs— and give your hips a little wiggle, before turning around, hooking your fingers into the waistband of your panties, and pulling them slowly— god, so fucking slowly— down your thighs, eyes on his.</p><p>You know he loves your ass. He absentmindedly rubs it, slaps it, watches the way it moves when you’re walking in front of him, when you go for jogs together. Do you use it against him like this? Not often.</p><p>The panties are around your ankles when he sits up, runs his big hands up the backs of your legs, gropes at your butt. He grunts in approval, and your laugh is melodic.</p><p>“Let me step out of them.” You wriggle, lifting a foot; he unhooks the item, keeps it taut so it doesn’t flick into your other leg. Then he helps you out of that foot, tosses the panties off the bed.</p><p>“Sit on me,” he orders gruffly. You attempt to move, but he stops you. “On my face.”</p><p>Your cheeks turn the most beautiful colour.</p><p>“Wakatoshi,” you breathe, using his full first name, turning to gawk at him. “I haven’t showered, no.”</p><p>“I wasn’t asking, angel.” He presses a kiss to the back of one of your thighs, feels you tense beneath him. He sits taller, runs his nose up to the crease at the underside of your ass. “Sit.” He says again.</p><p>There’s hesitation, and he wonders where his succubus has gone. He cranes his neck to get a peek of your face, sees your bottom lip being worried between your teeth, brows tenting.</p><p>“Hands on the bed, then.” He says, reading your anxiety. “I’ll do it like this.”</p><p>This time, you listen. As if this position is less mortifying than the alternative.</p><p>“Good girl, on your knees, too.” He breathes, watching as your body moves, as you spread yourself out for him. “Face down, arch your back, angel.”</p><p>“Toshi…” you whine, as he spreads your ass cheeks, admires the puckered hole there, the dripping excitement of your sex.</p><p>“Mm?” His eyes find yours, your face half-buried in the duvet, your hands already fisting the sheets. You look like he’s already fucked you, breath leaving your mouth in pants, eyes glassy.</p><p>“I want you…” you moan out as his thumb trails up your lips, spreading your wetness. It makes a lewd sound—slippery— then he’s spreading your labia, watching as your little hole twitches in anticipation.</p><p>His cock does the same.</p><p>He can’t believe he’s waited two weeks for this— not that he’s actually done this before, but <em>still</em>. His other partners were short-lived, third-base things, and Fuyumi just didn’t bring this out in him.</p><p>It’s you.</p><p>Oh, it’s <em>you</em>.</p><p>His first taste is bitter, tangy, but the sound you make has him rolling his eyes shut. He drinks you up, long tongue sliding between your folds, lips sucking at your own, as you mewl and whimper and buck back into his face.</p><p>“M-my clit, Tosh.” You whine out, and when he complies— runs his tongue down to the stiff little bud—your body goes taut in his hands, your toes curl and you groan wantonly.</p><p>“I can’t see you,” he complains gruffly, annoyed that he’s missing the expressions you’re pulling. He man-handles you with practised ease, until you’re on your back between his spread legs, body flushed with desire.</p><p>He gets up into his knees and separates your thighs, eyes searching your face. “Am I doing it right?” He wonders, falling into position.</p><p>“I-it’s your first time?” You stammer.</p><p>“Perhaps.” he says with a quirk of his lips.</p><p>“Oh my god,” you groan, hands coming up to cover your face. With a frown, he reaches his long arms up your body, interlaces his fingers with your own, and pulls then down to your sides. A whine builds in your throat. “Wakatoshi—”</p><p>“Shh,” he watches you as he dips back down, wetting his lips and swiping his tongue languidly up your slit, before softening the muscle and rolling it around your clit.</p><p>You gasp, grip his hands, tilt your hips up to give him better access.</p><p>“Tell me what you want.” He demands lowly.</p><p>“Finger,” you breathe, eyes half-lidded. “Keep doing that thing with your tongue.”</p><p>And he does.</p><p>You’re tight and wet, warm and soft. He crooks his finger up to tease the part inside you that gets your legs shaking, seals his lips around your clit and sucks.</p><p>“Toshi!” You whine, eyes slamming shut, fingernails digging into the top of his hand as you bow off the bed. But you haven’t cum yet, your walls aren’t contracting around him, so he keeps going.</p><p>Your voice rises with each lick, each thrust of his finger. He gets into a flow, likes the way you taste, feel under his lips, his tongue. You’re getting wetter with each second, his tongue venturing down to taste you some more, to drink you up, before going back to that tiny bundle of nerves that had your back arching off the bed.</p><p>Then an idea strikes him. He lets go of your other hand and lifts your thighs over his shoulders, sits up taller, taking your hips with him. Your eyes go wide—only your shoulders and head rest on the bed now— and his hands grip your hips, before he’s devouring you again. He licks you all over, before sliding his tongue into your hole, fucking you on it.</p><p>You gasp, trying to clench your thighs together, but it only spurs him on. He pushes his mouth closer to you, covering his chin and nose in your slick, your smell, your essence. He groans against you, own eyes closing at feel of you, the sounds your making.</p><p>What he’s reduced you— the predator— down to: his prey.</p><p>You’re clawing at the sheets, wailing, thrusting against his face, chanting his name</p><p>
  <em>ToshiToshiToshiToshi</em>
</p><p>He takes his tongue out of your pussy and wraps his lips around your clit, sucks with far more force that necessary, then he feels it. Fresh, warm, wet cum hitting his chin, dripping onto his chest, your body rigid, then pliant in his hands, breathing laboured, exhausted.</p><p>But he’s hard as a fucking rock.</p><p>He lays you down on your back and looms over you, elbows either side of your head.</p><p>Then you smile at him, still breathing heavy, and run your tongue along your top lip. “Ushijima Wakatoshi, you, sir, have got a dirty mouth.”</p><p>“Now I do.” He agrees, licking his lips. You laugh at that, pushing up slowly to press your lips to his, your own mouth coming away wet with your cum.  </p><p>“The condoms are in the side table drawer, big guy.” You purr. He moves to crawl off of you, but you stop him with another kiss, deeper and more sensual than the last. “Wakatoshi, really like you.” You admit, staring into his eyes.</p><p>He loves your eyes. He sees things in them. Stars. Hope. A future.</p><p>“Me? Or my dirty mouth?” He asks, humour in his tone.</p><p>You pout, smack his arm gently. “I was trying to be cute, and you ruined it.”</p><p>“You don’t need to try to be cute.” He says, nose bumping against yours as he swoops down to claim your mouth. “But, I really like you, too.”</p><p>A giddy smile paints your lips and you’re kissing him again, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. It tickles, and he shudders.</p><p>He sits up and places you in his lap— lips never leaving yours— then a hand is dipping down between your legs, finding you wet, silky. Ready. His cock twitches and a deep, rumbling groan leaves his throat.</p><p>The kiss ends when you break away, pushing him back as he tries to slip a finger inside you. “Condom,” you mumble as you crawl over him, opening your top drawer and rummaging around inside. “I really should have these more readily available, huh?” You smile at him, face flushed.</p><p>You’re taking too long. “Look with your <em>eyes</em>.” He scolds, rolling onto his side. But he could watch you forever; the way your body curves in the lamplight, the way you poke your tongue at him, roll your eyes.</p><p>When you crawl closer to better look through the mess of a drawer, he’s touching you again, your feet, legs, ass.</p><p>“Got one!” You announce, laughing as you hold the foil square up to him. When he tries to take it, you snatch it away. “Manners, Wakatoshi-kun.” You scold, teasingly.</p><p>“Please let me fuck you before my balls explode.” He says seriously, making you laugh even harder.</p><p>“Only because you said please.” You grin, tearing it open and handing it over to him.</p><p>He slides it down himself with expert ease, then he’s reaching for you, and you’re climbing onto him, your wet heat dragging over his cock as you lean down to kiss him.</p><p>“Ready, big boy?” You purr, licking the shell of his ear.</p><p>“Hurry up.” He grunts, rubbing himself against you.</p><p>The talking and the teasing stops there. You reach down, take him by the base and run the tip of him through your folds, heady moan shuddering out of you at the contact. He’s hyper focussed on your face, enamoured by how easily you come apart for him; the heavy lids, the flush on your face, the swell of your lips.</p><p>Then you’re lifting your hips and sinking onto him, forehead falling onto his chest as you moan. His own eyes are closed, fingers pressing hard into your hips, gripping you tightly.</p><p>Time almost stops. There’s a feeling deep in Wakatoshi’s gut that tells him this is it: you’re the one for him. This is as good as it’s ever going to get because you’re it. His soulmate.</p><p>You lift your hips and plunge back down, but he can already feel you beginning to shake in his hands. A strange sense of pride grows in his chest because <em>he</em> made you feel like that; <em>he</em> took the energy out of you with his mouth.</p><p>So, he helps.</p><p>Staying seated in you, he flips positions, lips catching yours as your head falls to the pillow. Your nails dig into his traps as he drives deeper into your heat, pulls out and thrusts back in. He swallows your moans, drinks up your cries, revels in the way you hurt him with your claws, pull at his hair.</p><p>“Toshi,” you break his kiss, breathless, flushed, gorgeous.</p><p>He calls your name in turn, guttural groan floating from his lips as he fills you over and <em>over</em> and <em>over</em> again. The feeling is bliss, pure. He can feel his release quickly approaching, but he knows—weeks of sex to compare with—that yours is closer. He can feel you getting wetter, can <em>hear</em> it; the wet slaps of his balls against your ass. You’re tightening up, too, moans escalating in volume, gasping, pleading.</p><p><em>Begging</em>.</p><p>“Toshi, <em>please</em>,” you whine, reaching up to hold the chrome poles of your bedhead as he pounds you into the mattress. He’s getting reckless, less controlled. “Fuck, Tosh, I’m—”</p><p>“Mm,” he moans, teeth on your neck, licking up your sweat, scenting your hair. “<em>Cum</em>, angel.” He grits out.</p><p>And you do; body tensing, arching up, pressing your tits to his chest, your cunt squeezing him in the most addictive way. He’s drunk on you, on your body, watching your face as he fucks you through your orgasm, your mouth hanging open, pussy still pulsing around him.</p><p>His own release is right <em>there</em>, and he’s pushed over the edge when you encircle your arms around his neck, slide your tongue into his mouth. He moans into you, and a few sloppy thrusts later, he’s spending himself into the condom, imagining what it’s going to be like to finally cum inside you, fill you up, really make you his.</p><p>He collapses on top of you, panting, heart hammering in his chest. You run your hands through his hair, hum happily.</p><p>“You know,” you begin, voice soft, still teasing. “I know it’s only been two weeks, but… I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”</p><p>He takes a breath, but doesn’t know what to say.</p><p>“Wakatoshi,” you say, and he can hear you’re nervous. He pokes his head up, eyes find yours, silently urging you to continue. “No, it’s silly.” You chuckle, pushing his face back into your chest.</p><p>He sucks playfully on a nipple. “Be honest with me.” He demands gently.</p><p>You giggle. “Fine, <em>fine</em>!” A deep, shaky breath, and you’re holding his head against your chest so he can’t lift his head. “I… think I love you?” You say softly, and he just lays there on your chest, listening to your heart, the continual hammer of it behind your ribs.</p><p>His own heart swells at your revelation, and he feels a smile grow on his face. He wonders how long you’ll wait for him to say it back. Then you’re tugging at his hair, pulling his face up to yours.</p><p>“You’re not even going to say anything?” You glare, pout on your face.</p><p>Far less time than he thought, it seems.</p><p>“Of course, I love you, too.” He says easily, pulling himself up on his elbows to better look down at you, at the furious blush colouring your cheeks, ears, nose. “I’ll never be able to live without you.”</p><p>He’ll never tire of looking at you, and—it seems—<em>teasing</em> you.</p><p>Still, you smile. “Okay, good.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he agrees, planting a kiss on your lips.                                                                                                                                      </p>
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